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Angel only thinks to get a hand on the wall to cushion the blow after the third or fourth time his head smacks into wallpaper. His other three hands are busy alternating between scrambling to pull his clothes back into place and being caught and squeezed in an iron grip every time Angel manages to barely twist loose.
He goes cross-eyed for a second when he tugs at two arms restrained by one fist and his shoulders pinch and burn. This guy’s grip is insane! There will be bruises all up and down wrists and maybe on his hips from the first rough grab as he was marched into a corner of the room and pinned. Angel hasn’t stopped struggling for a second and he can hardly believe that the man at his back can keep up with all his limbs.
Breath catches in Angel's throat when his skirt is shoved up over his ass and air hits his naked cheeks.
“Why…” Angel gulps down too much spit and a lightning quick streak of shame and fear that leave a metallic aftertaste in the back of his throat before stuttering on, “wh-why are you doing this?”
The assault has been almost silent so far- his attacker only audibly grinding teeth and occasionally growling at Angel’s back. Long claws leave welts between shoulder blades when Angel struggles the same time a hand fists his top from behind and yanks it down. Chest fluff springs free and Angel shudders, tears welling up in his eyes. His momma would smack him if she ever found out it made Angel’s heart race or his dick jump to get violated, used. He has to keep reminding himself he doesn’t want this. He tries to tug his arms free again with no luck.
“Please! Did I do something to deserve this? Is it because I’m a slu-”
“Stop asking stupid questions!”
Angel whimpers. That voice finally snarling up at him makes his knees weak so it doesn’t take any effort at all for his assailant to press him forward- crowding his back and twisting locked arms while pressing Angel flat. Angel lets his flaming face fall into the back of his splayed hand and yanks a rumpled bandeau top back up over his chest in some semblance of modesty. “Then stop! I’m a good boy! You’ll ruin me.”
There’s a second of hesitance before hips against the back of his thigh press Angel tighter to the wall. The man behind him isn’t even hard but Angel is. So hard it hurts. He’s going to really start crying if something doesn’t give- if some sort of tension isn’t released.
That big hand with its dangerous claws reaches around and Angel’s dripping cock starts to twitch and spit at only a couple of brutally tight jerks. There’s so little room that the fist bumps the wall with every movement but the alternative is Angel pushing his ass back into the assailant behind him. He’s completely trapped and overheating and his arms are cramping and that fist keeps jerking him off. He’s going to lose his mind.
“Ah! Don’t!” Angel practically shouts into the wall three inches from his face. “Don’t make me cum! I don’t want to– AH! PLEASE!”
His molester’s hand moves faster. Angel chokes on spit and tosses his head back, chin toward the ceiling. Something hard burrows between his shoulder blades and his ribs ache from being crowded against the wall. Thighs quiver as Angel spills all over the fist yanking at his cock.
He misses the crash pad of his hand and smacks a cheek when his face falls forward again. The hand between his legs slows to nearly a crawl but doesn’t leave, palm smearing sticky cum as it rubs up and down and keeps the low buzz humming through Angel’s body. When the tips of claws sneak past his balls to skim across his hole, Angel bucks into the touch and shakes in shame and arousal though he can’t decide in what amounts as the percentages fluctuate from one split second to the next.
“That’s enough,” Angel mumbles, lips barely parting and shaping the words as he tries to catch his breath. “Don’t make me do anything else. Please, don’t make me. They’ll all know what I am. No one will want me after this.”
He swallows heavily and nuzzles the wallpaper to distract himself from the way his knees wobble as he floats in the aftermath of his hard and sudden orgasm.
It isn’t until a strangled whine echoes behind him that Angel remembers the forehead digging into his spine. Angel half twists to find Husk’s face hidden completely in white fur. Ears are pinned all the way back and then shoulders heave and drop with a ragged sigh that pulls into something that sounds more like a sob.
“Husk?”
“Sorry.” Husk presses his face tighter to Angel’s sweaty back. “I tried but…I hate that shit you’re saying. You aren’t ruined. You are good. I’m sorry.”
Wide hands shake as they pet apologetically over Angel’s chest and belly. He even straightens Angel’s top.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Two hands cup Husk’s face as Angel spins around carefully and smooths his skirt down so he’s a little more put together. “You sweet, silly man. Look at me! Do I look hurt or insulted?”
Angel knows he’s glowing even if his clothes are a little out of whack and there’s cum drying on his thighs. Husk looks him over with almost frantic concern. Sometimes Angel does wonder how he got it so good.
“Hey,” Angel plants a kiss to a scrunched forehead. “It’s just a dumb fantasy. A little playacting, remember? Why don’t you try asking me if I liked it?”
Husk’s tongue sticks to his lower lip- his mouth so dry with worry it makes his tongue do that cute ‘blep’ thing Angel loves before the man can get out an uncertain, “Did you like it?”
“Loved every second of it, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything but what I asked you to. And it’s cheaper than therapy.”
Husk is wound too tight to appreciate the joke. He still isn’t breathing normally held against Angel’s chest.
Angel kisses a twitching cheek and makes sure to give Husk the truth. “We don’t ever have to do it again if you don’t want to. It was good for me but I’d love some cuddles right now.”
Husk melts into him with watery eyes and Angel wraps him up in four arms. They slide down the wall together to rest in one warm, entwined heap on the floor as Angel kisses flat ears and whispers about what a precious gift he was given in such an attentive, wonderful partner. Maybe sometime far further down the road, Angel can convince Husk it is ok to hold his face into the dirt and call him a slut but, for now, there are sweet, sweet cuddles to be had.